


Garlic bread.

by CharlesObscure



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: 1977's Zeppelin, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Light Angst, M/M, Swearing, garlic bread, idk if i could call this fluff 'cause it's not but sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlesObscure/pseuds/CharlesObscure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 1977 and Jimmy Page is fully addicted to heroin. His behaviour gets stranger and stranger and he has recently stopped eating solid food.<br/>Robert Plant is concerned about his bandmate and tries to convince him to eat something. Bonzo and his obsession for garlic bread come him in handy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Garlic bread.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so, this is my very first fic on AO3! I hope you enjoy it. Also, English is not my mother tongue, and I already apologize for any mistakes or bad vocabulary. This fic has been beta-read by some of my friends (not native English-speakers).

Robert Plant and John Paul Jones entered the room, chatting and joking with each other. As soon as they closed the door both of them stopped and sniffed. A strong scent of garlic filled the air. Jonesy frowned. „What is it? Smells good. Great, I’m getting hungry now!“ A loud scrunching sound made them flinch and turn their heads.  
John „Bonzo“ Bonham was sitting in the small living room and munched on what looked like small pieces of bread. The others walked to table and joined Bonzo. „What are you eating, Bonzo?“, Robert asked. The drummer swallowed the bite he just chewed on and looked at him. „Garlic bread. Want some?“ „Why are you eating garlic bread?“ „Because I was fucking hungry!“ Jonesy chuckled. „I’ll have some!“ Bonzo nodded pleased and passed him the plate. „Percy?“ „Alright then, gimme some“ The Golden God shook his curls and took a slice. „Thanks“ A short silence emerged as the three of them ate their pieces of garlic bread. Bonzo broke it by slamming a fist on the table. His facial expression dead serious. „Boys, listen. Y’know, I’d kill someone for garlic bread!“ Jonesy choked on his second piece. “Bonzo, what the fuck?!”, he asked the drummer, but only after Robert slapped him on his back. “I’m serious, Jonesy! Wouldn’t you kill somebody for garlic bread?” “NO! Why would I do that? I mean, I like it, but I certainly wouldn’t even think about it!”, the bassist replied. The two of them started arguing, but Robert ignored their conversation.  
  
He was worried. Worried about James “Jimmy” Patrick Page. The guitarist has occupied his thoughts for over two weeks now. In addition to the music, Jimmy has dedicated his life to heroin.  
And if that wasn’t already enough, he had recently stopped eating solid foods. He now lived on a diet of banana daiquiris. Robert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Jimmy entered the room, as if on cue.  
  
The singer looked up and smiled at him. “Hey, Jimmy” His band mate gave him a faint nod and sat down, next to Robert. Robert looked at him closely and flinched once again because of his pale, fragile physique, his arms looking as thin as two twigs, his elbows poking out of his ridiculously big shirt. Jimmy’s shiny, long black hair looked matt and sloppy. His once so sparkling eyes had lost all their shine and happiness. Robert tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.  
Distracting himself, he took another piece of garlic bread and chewed on it, lost in thoughts and suddenly not that hungry anymore. Jimmy next to him made sort of a disgusted sound and moved a bit away from him.  
  
Robert swallowed his bite and looked at him again. He then offered Jimmy a piece or bread. “Here” Jimmy wrinkled his nose as the scent of garlic hit him. “No. I’m not hungry” Robert frowned and waved the piece of bread in front of Jimmy’s face. “Please, Jimmy, you need to eat something!” The guitarist just pushed his hand away. “Thanks, but no thanks” “Jimmy, please, just one bite! You haven’t eaten since ages!” “I don’t give a shit” “Just a little, come on! I worry about you! Look at how thin you’ve become!” “Why does that matter to you?!?” Robert could feel Jimmy getting angry. “Because you’re my friend and I worry about you! It’d be better if you reduced your heroin usage and begin to eat again!” Jimmy scowled at him and stood up quickly. He staggered a bit and Robert held his arm to stabilize him. Jimmy furiously snatched his arm out of Robert’s grip. “Fucking shit, Robert! Fuck you! Don’t tell me how I should live my life! Fucking hippie! Fuck off!” He stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Robert could hear him kicking a chair in the hallway.  
  
The singer sat there, shocked from Jimmy’s outburst. He thought about getting up and following Jimmy, but his other band mates held him back.  
“Just leave him, Percy. He is responsible for what he does and what he doesn’t. It’s his live, you know?”, Jonesy told him, still eating garlic bread. Yeah, Robert knew. But Jimmy’s harsh reaction kind of hurt him. He just wanted the best for his friend! He couldn’t continue watching Jimmy like this. Broken, angry and demotivated.  
  
Robert remained seated for a while, staring at the old plastic table-cloth while the others continued to eat their garlic bread. The singer was lost in his thoughts and didn’t hear when Jonesy and Bonzo left the room, to check out some birds who were waiting in front of the hotel. He then searched through his pockets and pulled out a big joint. The singer sighed and lit it up. He took a deep drag and closed his eyes as the smoke filled his lungs.  
  
Ten minutes later was the joint smoked and the atmosphere felt kind of melancholic. Robert stared at the remains of garlic bread. The sadness in his heart got bigger. He couldn’t understand why he cared so much about Jimmy. Sure, they were band mates, if not even best friends, almost ten years now. But the way the guitarist behaved recently, the fact that he had stopped eating and his heroin abuse. Robert knew that Jimmy would never realize that he was addicted, but it was obviously the truth.  
  
Robert felt light-headed, the weed had finally fully kicked in. He remembered very well when he met Jimmy for the first time. This bloke with the black hair and the slender fingers. He guided Robert into his big house and made him a cup of tea. Robert felt very misplaced, as it was a sort of posh house, and this bloke obviously had a lot of money. Then he started speaking with this high voice and showed Robert his record collection. They dug through it for a while and the bloke asked him, which records he liked. They talked for a long time. But then, the bloke, Jimmy, got his guitar and played an arrangement of an old folk song. Robert felt over the moon. Jimmy was a genius. There was this instant connection between them.  
  
And when they then had their first rehearsal with Jonesy and Bonzo…  
  
Their chemistry was probably the thing that fascinated Robert the most.  
  
“Jimmy Page steals the lightning from the heavens…”, he whispered. He remembered reading this quote in a newspaper somewhere. And it was a perfect match. The wizard, the black magician, the bringer of joy, the genius, the virtuoso, Jimmy Page. Jimmy. JimmyJimmyJimmy. And he destroyed himself.  
Robert couldn’t stop the single tear running down his cheek. The hole in his chest got bigger and he felt like being torn apart. He sobbed quietly.  
Suddenly, the door opened and the guitarist staggered into the room. Robert flinched and quickly dried his eyes. Jimmy walked across the room and he actually had troubles to keep himself steady. Robert stood up. “Jimmy, for god’s sake…!”  
  
The guitarist fell down onto a chair at the table and looked at Robert. His pupils were as small as pinheads and his forehead was sweaty. Robert felt so down. He just shook his head and sat next to his band mate. “Jimmy, you’re totally wasted”, he said. The other man didn’t reply and so they both just remained seated, quietly staring at the table-cloth. This went on for a while, until Robert suddenly awoke from this trance. He looked at the garlic bread and pushed the plate into Jimmy’s direction. “Please, Jimmy. Just a bite”, he again tried to convince him. Jimmy looked at him. “Ffffffuck you, Perce…”, he slurred and weakly tried to push Robert’s hand away.  
  
The singer took his hand from the plate. “Listen, Jimmy. You know, I care about you. You are one of my best friends, you are my band mate, my boss and whatever else. And I worry! Man, how much I worry! Just look at you! Thin, broken and wasted. The drugs, Jimmy, the fucking drugs! It weren’t that bad if it was just weed. I mean, hell yeah, that shit is bloody good! But the smack, Jimmy, stop it! Don’t you see what you’ve become?!? What you might become? I don’t want to sweep your parts together after you’ve collapsed somewhere! Just think about how Jonesy and Bonzo would react! How I would react! I couldn’t bear losing you!!!”  
  
Jimmy just stared at him. One minute, two, three minutes. Then, he blinked. “Yeah…we should pull ourselves together, I mean, we’re from Led Zeppelin, the most fucking awesome band ever!”, Robert added. Jimmy laughed a bit. “Yeah…”, he said and cleared his throat.  
  
The guitarist was so thin, Robert was afraid of breaking him as he pulled him into a careful, light hug. “I’m sorry, Percy…” Jimmy sobbed and hugged his friend back. “Shh, it’s okay…” Robert patted Jimmy’s back.  
  
Jimmy freed himself and looked at Robert with his pinhead-like pupils and Robert looked back. His head moving closer towards Jimmy’s.  
  
Their lips touched feathery, briefly, just for a second and Robert was afraid that he had only imagined this moment.  
  
Jimmy actually smiled and grabbed the plate of garlic bread. He chose the smallest piece of them all and ate it, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted. The guitarist swallowed his bite and slowly ate another piece.  
  
He then fetched a bottle of Jack Daniels and washed the piece of garlic bread down.  



End file.
